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COPYRIGHT,  1907,  BY 
BINGHAM  THOBURN  WILSON 


All  rights  reserved 


THE  TROW  PRESS,  NEW  YORK 


(Eomttumiimpttt 

nPHOU  shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  house,  thou 
shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  wife,  nor  his  man 
servant,  nor  his  maidservant,  nor  his  ox,  nor  his  ass, 
nor  anything  that  is  thy  neighbor's. — EXODUS  xx.  17. 


OIlp  ifgjrorrit*  1 

To  Hox.  FRANK  D.   CREAMER, 

Ex-Sheriff  Kings  County,  etc.,  etc. 

My  Dear  Sir:  It  is  a  time-honored  custom,  I 
believe,  among  men  who  aspire  to  court  the  tune 
ful  Muse,  to  honor  their  feeble  efforts  by  inscribing 
them  to  some  more  worthy  personage  whose  judg 
ment  rises  far  above  the  calumny  of  criticism  or  the 
scarcely  less  cruel  adulations  of  praise. 

Believe  me,  sir,  by  inditing  the  following  poem 
to  you,  it  is  entirely  foreign  to  my  expectations 
to  hope  to  increase  a  personal  popularity  that 
already  greatly  overshadows  whatever  influence  my 
unworthy  pen  might  strive  to  create;  but  rather, 
instead,  I  do  hope  to  solicit  the  approval  of  your 
better  judgment,  in  recording  a  vigorous  protest 
against  such  wanton  indulgences  as  the  story  in  part 
deplores. 

In  the  construction  of  the  poem,  the  mere  matter 
of  versification  has  interested  me  but  little.  For  I 
stoutly  maintain  that  a  book  without  a  purpose  is 
like  fruit  without  flavor,  a  flower  without  perfume, 


an  instrument  devoid  of  melody ;  in  fact — a  mere 
semblance  of  the  thing  it  is  intended  to  represent, 
and  I  therefore  wish  to  call  your  attention  to  the 
vital  causes  that  have  given  this  work  origin. 

Previously  let  me  state,  although  I  wish  to  be 
brief,  I  am  well  aware  that  in  any  other  age  it 
would  have  seemed  heresy  to  cast  an  eye  of  criticism 
upon  the  wording  of  one  of  the  Ten  Command 
ments.  But  at  this  late  day,  when  the  light  of  rea 
son  is  beginning  to  show  its  guiding  hand  in  most  all 
our  creeds,  we  can  speak  of  the  mistakes  of  man 
relative  to  that  "  good  book,"  without  fear  of  cre 
ating  consternation ;  for  while  doubtless  the  Bible 
was  divinely  inspired  when  written,  we  must  remem 
ber  that  it  was  poor,  frail,  erroneous  man  who 
translated  it  into  our  tongue.  The  Tenth  Com 
mandment,  when  reduced  ad  extremum,  simply  im 
plies  :  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet  anything  that  is  thy 
neighbor's."  To  covet  means  to  desire,  and  to  de 
sire  that  which  is  beautiful  or  of  value  is  just 
as  natural,  as  to  spurn  that  which  is  repulsive 
and  useless.  The  fault  originally,  it  seems  to  me, 


was  not  with  the  Commandment,  but  with  the  trans 
lators  of  the  Commandment,  and  I  believe  I  am  jus 
tified  in  the  contention  that,  in  order  to  avoid  mak 
ing  hypocrites  of  us  all,  we  must  either  coin  a  word 
to  properly  interpret  the  biblical  meaning  of  the 
word  covet,  as  implied,  or  resort  to  the  interjection 
of  an  adverb,  thereby  making  the  Commandment 
read :  "  Thou  shalt  not  wrongfully  covet  anything 
that  is  thy  neighbor's." 

I  advance  this  argument  to  justify  the  position 
that  I  assume,  although,  at  most,  the  Commandment 
is  only  a  convenient  vehicle  for  the  story. 

Here  in  America  we  are  confronted  by  what  we 
might  term  two  great  national  diseases,  striving 
alike  to  annihilate  the  physical  and  moral  man. 
They  are  Consumption  and  Divorce.  Think  not 
that  the  former  is  to  be  the  more  dreaded  of  the  two. 
Consumption  may  lay  waste  the  frail  body  of  the 
individual,  and  place  its  emaciated,  hapless  victim, 
with  merciless  hand,  deep  in  the  cold  grave.  But 
when  the  moral  obligations  of  manhood  are  gone, 
when  the  marriage  rite  has  lost  the  binding  sacred- 


4  2ty?  ifgpnrrtte 

ness  of  its  vow,  not  only  the  individual,  but  the  very 
national  life  will  sink  into  a  state  of  beastly  degen 
eracy  that  is  far  worse  than  death. 

I  have  always  considered  marriage  as  a  sacred 
and  holy  relation,  rather  than  one  of  mere  legal 
obligation  by  civil  contract,  and  the  very  non- 
realization  of  this  fact  by  the  law  has  robbed  the 
Church  of  much  of  its  power  to  correct  the  rapidly 
increasing  evil  of  divorce. 

It  would  indeed  seem  unjust  to  lay  the  universal 
blame  for  the  existence  of  this  immoral  octopus  at 
the  door  of  any  one  particular  cause.  But  I  firmly 
contend  that  the  misalliance  of  rich  decrepitude 
with  folly-blindfolded,  or  designing  beauty,  is  re 
sponsible  for  a  percentage  of  divorce  far  in  excess 
of  its  proportion  to  the  number  of  people  married. 
Such  misalliance,  on  the  part  of  Age,  may  seem  like 
a  travesty  upon  the  virtues  of  second  childhood ;  but 
on  the  part  of  Youth  it  amounts  to  willful  and 
downright  prostitution. 

And  now  permit  me  to  humbly  inscribe  this  Poem 
to  you;  hoping  that  the  spirit  of  its  theme  will 


somewhat  discourage  such  horrifying  examples   of 
matrimonial  wantonness. 

With  a  feeling  of  deepest  respect,  I  beg  to  call 
myself 

Your  friend, 

BIXGHAM  THOBURN  WILSON. 

NEW  YORK  CITY,  BOROUGH  OF  BROOKLYN, 
January  10,  1907. 


DEDICATION 

TO  fair  Diana,  and  her  many  wiles, 
Who,  from  the  Garden-tower,  looks  down  and 

smiles ; 

Guards  o'er  the  park,  and  watches  o'er  a  throng 
Of  the  gay  revelers,  that  stroll  along. 
Summer  and  Winter,  Morning,  Noon,  and  Night- 
There,  as  she  stands  with  bow  and  arrow  bright, 
Seems    that    she   says :    "  Heed    Thou   dull    Care   no 

more — 

Covet  what  happiness  life  holds  in  store, 
Gather  it  in,  the  mite  that  Heaven  lends, 
Meet  at  my  feet  and  share  it  with  thy  friends." 
To  fair  Diana,  and  her  many  wiles, 
Who,  from  the  Garden-tower,  looks  down  and  smiles. 


9 
INTRODUCTION 

ISLE  of  the  Blest !     Fair  City  by  the  Sea ! 
Hark  to  the  song  a  child  would  sing  of  thee ; 
Not  that  I  might  aspire  by  simple  lays ; 
A  hundred  tongues  in  all-united  praise 
Might  not  aspire,  in  one  melodious  chime, 
To  sound  the  praise  that  all  in  all  is  thine. 
Sea-set  Elysium !     Fair  in  every  part — 
Imperial  City !     Thou  hast  won  my  heart ; 
Like  the  fond  child  adores  its  mother's  knee, 
Fondly  I  came,  as  fondly  cling  to  thee, 
And  still  more  fond,  re-revel  'mid  thy  views, 
Trespass  thy  parks,  or  roam  thine  avenues. 
Fair  are  thy  days ;  thy  nights  as  wondrous  fair, 
As  the  gay  throng  that  mingles  with  thee  there ; 
Fair  are  thy  charms  to  Beauty's  eye  unfurled; 
And  thy  fair  women,  fairest  in  the  world ; 
Hark  to  my  babbling  song,  a  feeble  rill, 
And  when  'tis  o'er  condemn  me  if  you  will. 
Isle  of  the  Blest!     Fair  City  by  the  Sea! 
Hark  to  the  song  a  child  would  sing  of  thee. 


11 

REVERA 

ONE  Sabbath,  as  the  strolling  mass  I  viewed, 
With  idle  steps  and  idler  thoughts  imbued, 
I  chanced  to  heed,  vibrating  on  the  air, 
The  solemn  tolls  that  called  all  souls  to  prayer; 
And  not  by  time  or  occupation  pressed, 
Crossed    the    green    park    and    entered    with    the 

rest. 

Silent  I  sat,  intent  to  learn  and  hear ; 
The  Choir  sang  and  charmed  my  listening  ear ; 
Sang  of  the  night  in  which  all  stars  are  gone ; 
Sang  of  a  light  to  lead  us  kindly  on ; 
And  oft  I  thought,  as  there  in  humbled  pride 
I  sat  alone,  that  I  must  needs  that  guide ; 
When  came  the  Reverend  Sir,  and  as  he  said; 
"  Oh  let  us  pray."     In  reverence  bowed  my  head. 

Then  from  the  chanceled  pulpit  he  looked  down, 
Gracing  the  scene  in  surpliced,  snowy  gown; 
Soft  the  responses  rose,  as  softly  fell ; 
I  had  forgotten,  once  I  knew  them  well, 


13 

For  I  recalled  now,  in  the  days  gone  by, 
How  they  had  taught  me  promptly  to  reply ; 
And  the  good  Pastor,  when  the  Choir  was  done, 
Read  us  the  Ten  Commandments,  one  by  one; 
Read  of  Mount  Sinai's  smoky,  burning  face; 
Read  of  the  tribes  assembled  at  its  base; 
Told  of  the  sights  miraculous  they  saw; 
Pictured  the  tablets  as  God  wrote  the  Law; 
Spoke  of  the  fiery  paths  that  Moses  trod ; 
Took  for  his  text,  the  Tenth  Command  of  God — 
"  Thou    shalt   not    Covet !  "      'Neath   each   burning 

word, 
Much  did  I  feel  impressed  with  what  I  heard. 

Scarce  was  his  story  only  partly  told, 
When,  'mid  the  rush  of  many  a  silken  fold, 
Some  tardy  worshiper,  delayed  o'er  long, 
Entered  the  church  and  braved  the  staring  throng, 
And  as  I  glanced  aside — Oh  Joy  complete ! 
A  dream's  fulfillment  stepped  into  my  seat. 
She  sank  demurely  at  the  farther  end, 
Prayer-book  in  hand  and  gave  a  strict  attend. 


3fy?  Sfgporrtt?  15 

Nor  once  she  seemed  as  conscious  of  her  pride, 
Nor  once  she  turned  a  fleeting  glance  aside; 
Strict  to  a  fault ;  with  reverence  for  her  creed, 
Gathered  each  word  with  all-apparent  greed. 
Such    faultless    gown,    such    eyes    of    softened 

tone. 
Such   perfect    form,    such    hands,    I    ne'er   had 

known ; 

While,  as  on  hassock  she  devoutly  kneeled 
In  pious  mien,  one  thoughtless  glance  revealed, 
Deep  in  the  twilight  of  the  cushioned  pew, 
Just  the  suspicion  of  a  dainty  shoe, 
Blending  its  shapely  shadows  with  the  floor, 
When  solemn  worship  bade  me  gaze  no  more. 
Vain  now  the  discourse  fell  upon  my  ear, 
For  once,  I  cared  far  more  to  think  than  hear ; 
Such    heavenly    eyes    I    thought ;    so    wondrous 

grand, 

But  thought  just  then  about  that  Tenth  Com 
mand — 

"  Thou  shalt  not  covet !  "     And  before  I  knew, 
Broke  the  whole  Law  while  seated  in  the  pew, 


17 


Turned  from  a  sly  review  with  steadied  head, 
But  never  heard  a  word  the  Reverend  said. 

I  just  remember  passing  to  the  street, 
Amid  a  throng  of  slow-delaying  feet, 
Where  many  a  languid  step  of  conscious  pride 
Paused  on  its  way,  to  choke  the  human  tide; 
And  as  fair  fashion  close  about  me  pressed; 
Descending  from  the  church-door  with  the  rest, 
I  marked  the  eboned  coach,  with  Coat  of  Arms, 
That,  to  myself  I  said,  awaits  her  charms ; 
Watched    her    but    pause    an    instant    'mid    the 

throng. 

Caught  her  shy  glance  as  swift  she  rolled  along. 
My  eyes  kept  vigil  as  she  passed  away; 
My  heart  in  vain  seemed  coaxing  her  to  stay; 
Coaxing  and  pleading  as  she  passed  from  view, 
'Mid  the  rich  travel  of  the  avenue; 
Pleading  her  stay,  and  after  she  was  gone, 
With  the  sweet  memory  of  her  still  plead  on. 
A  sense  of  hopelessness  awoke  my  dream, 
Quickly  I  turned  from  the  deserted  scene; 


19 

As  with  the  crowd  I  then  kept  measured  time, 

Saw  by  the  clock  it  was  the  hour  to  dine, 

But  hunger  now  and  I  were  far  apart, 

For  food  can  never  satisfy  the  heart ; 

Emotions  rise  to  guide  us  as  they  may, 

While  beauty  oft  scorns  appetite  away, 

Saying,  as  it  the  viands  all  condemn — 

"  Angels    don't    dine.      Why    should,    who    worship 

them?" 

Thus  did  I  muse  as  'mid  the  throng  I  walked, 
Well,  call  it  mused,  more  to  myself  I  talked ; 
Talked  like  some  babbling  fool,  deploring  fate ; 
Ambled  along  with  careless  idle  gait ; 
Shunned  the  "  Cafe,"  nor  touched  a  glass  of  wine ; 
Glanced  at  my  watch,  impatient  marked  the  time; 
Dreamed  as  I  strolled,  about  "  My  lady  fair," 
Jumped  on  a  car,  and  rode  to  "  God  knows  where." 


21 

THE    DANCE 

A  HUNDRED  lights  illume  the  gilded  hall, 
Light  steps  and  lighter  hearts  whirl  in  the 

ball; 

To  point  to  beauty's  Queen,  a  hopeless  task, 
Where  all  seem  fairer  than  a  choice  might  ask. 
I  stand  apart.     The  glittering  chandelier 
Dazzles  the  trembling  jewels  at  her  ear, 
To  tempt  my  eyes  and  coax  their  vision  where 
Her  languid  smile  seems  unknown  times  as  fair; 
Oh  Tenth  Commandment !    As  she  glideth  by, 
And  turns  within  the  dance,  I  catch  her  eye, 
And  follow  closely  'mid  the  dizzy  whirl, 
Until  one  bank  of  life  obscures  my  girl. 

No  peace  of  soul  assuaged  my  stormy  breast, 
I  sought  a  partner  and  we  joined  the  rest; 
Onward  we  went,  the  fates  seemed  doubly  kind, 
As  in  "  My  Lady's  "  wake  we  whirled  behind. 
I  marked  her  partner  staggering  through  the  dance. 
A  withered  form ;  some  man  of  high  finance ; 


23 

Brow-beating  frown ;  a  single  glance  that  swept, 

Told  me  that  age  had  manacled  his  step, 

And  well  I  knew  he'd  give  his  worldly  gains 

For  the  young  blood  that  coursed  within  my  veins. 

Three  times  we  passed  them  on  the  crowded  floor, 

And  every  time  he  turned  he  looked  me  o'er; 

Measured  suspiciously  my  every  pose, 

Stared  in  my  face,   or  scanned  my  eboned  clothes, 

Until,  I  half  conceived,  'twas  his  belief 

That  I  was  some  impostor,  rogue,  or  thief. 

Yet  he  was  wrong.     If  thievings  such  be  crime, 

'Twas  she  who  stole,  the  fault  was  nowise  mine ; 

Stole  my  poor  heart,  contentment  all  destroyed 

And  left  my  bosom  one  wild  aching  void. 

Thus,  as  we  circled  'mid  the  whirling  maze, 

Vainly  I  strove  to  shun  his  searching  gaze ; 

Thus,  'mid  the  dance,  I  caught  the  sweeping  eye, 

That  fairly  scorned  me  when  I  passed  him  by ; 

But,  while  at  every  turn  he  frowned  on  me, 

Each  time  I  vowed  to  claim  a  penalty ; 

Aid  the  fair  culprit,  if  no  other  way ; 

Spirit  her  off  from  all  the  dancers  gay; 


25 

Capture  the  recreant;  make  my  arms  the  jail; 
Lock  her  within,  nor  take  his  bond  for  bail. 
Thus,  while  I  scanned  the  fleeting  beauty  o'er, 
My  partner  wearied  and  we  quit  the  floor. 

And  now  as  she  again  comes  into  view, 

Eyes  speak  to  eyes  and  souls  commune  anew ; 

For    hearts    can    speak    although    the    lips    be 

dumb ; 

Love  breathes  its  tender  language  with  no  tongue ; 
Sweeter  in  accent  than  the  voice  can  lend, 
And  tells  a  tale  that  words  don't  comprehend: 
Yet  not  one  thoughtless  glance  she  gave  to  me 
But  that  was  modest,  strict  propriety. 
Her  form  divine  seems  not  of  human  mold; 
Fairer  by  far  than  mortals  might  behold; 
Fairer  by  far  than  when  before  we  met, 
In  the  same  pew ;  I  never  shall  forget ! 
To  my  adoring  eyes,  now  far  more  fair, 
Than  whom  Ephesians  kneeled  before  in  prayer. 
See  how  her  lips  are  parted.    Like  the  snow — 
Arched  is  her  throat,  or  swells  her  breast  below; 


27 


While  with  luxuriant  wave,  and  sumptuous  fold, 
Heaven  has  graced  her  with  a  crown  of  gold, 
And  woven  in  that  crown  each  radiant  hue 
That  earliest  morn  imparts  amid  the  dew; 
As  if  the  sunlight  from  its  golden  throne, 
Exiled  by  choice,  had  made  that  crown  its  home. 
Now  as  her  partner  falters,  old  and  weak, 
Mark  how  the  crimson  mantles  to  her  cheek; 
Mark  how  she  scarce  returns  his  fawning  smile; 
Mark    how    her    tempting    steps    increase    the 

while  ; 

Until,  before  all  eyes,  "  My  Lady  Fair," 
Moves  like  some  spirit  gliding  through  the  air  ; 
Yet  all  pretension  plainly  seems  to  say, 
That  truant  joy  is  absent,  far  away. 
Now  as  she  whirls  amid  the  dizzy  throng, 
Coaxing  my  envy  and  my  eyes  along, 
While  I  almost  despair  a  meeting  vain, 
Dance-tired,  her  partner  treads  upon  her  train. 

Scarce  had  I  ceased  the  feasting  of  my  eyes, 
Then  to  my  heart  I  thus  soliloquized  — 


29 

Would,  on  her  gown,  you  were  yon  blushing  Rose, 
Breasting  the  tide  of  life  that  ebbs  and  flows ; 
Hoping  you  might  a  moment's  time  beguile, 
As  on  thy  form  she  condescends  to  smile: 
Oh  that  you  were  the  dimmest  pearl  that  lies, 
Circling  her  mellow  throat  amid  her  sighs, 
Never  for  once  the  endless  joy  disdain, 
Proud  of  your  lot  to  hear  her  but  complain: 
Or  sweeter  still — when  twilight's  solemn  hour 
Calls  her  to  vespers  in  fond  slumber's  bower; 
Where  many  a  rambling  rose  adorns  the  vine, 
And  morning-glories  still  at  night  entwine; 
Where  Ivy  climbs  along  the  casement  wall, 
And  where  the  dews  of  Heaven  delight  to  fall; 
Might  you  but  be  the  jewel  that  with  care, 
Guards   as    "  My   Lady  "    clasps    her   hands    in 

prayer : 

When,  as  I  paused:  Behold — I  startled  saw, 
Moses  before  me  with  that  tenth  great  law. 

Then  to  myself  I  reasoned.     Might  she  be — 
By  right  of  law,  a  vested  property; 


31 

Claimed  by  the  rich  Decrepit,  as  his  right 

Who  through  the  dance  went  staggering  to-night; 

Purchased  and  paid  for,  like  some  common  thing; 

December  nursing  in  the  lap  of  Spring, 

In  this  degenerate  age,  does  scarce  appall, 

Where  money  marks  the  acme  of  it  all : 

For  in  these  times,  when  Beauty  seems  to  know, 

Naught  but  the  power  of  wealth ;  the  gilded  show ; 

These  very  tendencies,  themselves  presage, 

Youth's  misalliance  with  repulsive  Age: 

Led  to  its  cankerous  nest  by  worldly  gain, 

With  head  half  bowed  in  sorrow,  half  in  shame; 

Enters  the  web  of  its  licentious  greed, 

And  lives — A  flower  companion  to  the  weed; 

Rebuked  by  Love's  traditions  of  the  past, 

And  dies  by  conscience  more  rebuked  at  last. 

Though  she  be  owned  by  purchase:  is  it  true — 

Because  a  flower  in  some  garden  grew, 

That  I,  a  passer-by,  should  not  desire 

To  pause  outside  the  gate,  but  to  admire; 

Flatter  the  beauty  of  its  cherished  bloom, 

Smile  on  its  form,  or  breathe  its  rich  perfume? 


33 


Such  be  the  truth.     Then  should  a  fate  unkind, 
Grant  owners  vision  but  strike  others  blind  ; 
Curse  us  who  still  appreciate,  with  eyes 
That  see  all  beauty,  only  to  despise, 
Lest  we  be  tempted  for  a  time  to  pause, 
And  break  the  tenth  of  Moses'  holy  laws. 

Dissatisfied,  my  mind  inquiring  still, 

Thus    roamed    the    fertile    fields    of    thought    at 

will. 

Such  be  the  truth.     Why  has  "  My  Lady  Fair  " 
The  very  sunlight  in  her  golden  hair? 
Why  to  her  sparkling  eyes  ;  if  such  be  true, 
Did  Heaven  lend  its  deep  ethereal  blue? 
Such  be  the  truth.     Why  is  it  Nature  kissed 
Her  brow  with  beauty  that  I  can't  resist? 
If  such  be  true  ;  why  to  her  many  wiles 
Has  Heaven  added  countless  more  in  smiles, 
Or  planted  that  wild  laugh  'mid  features  coy, 
To  drive  a  man  distracted  with  its  joy? 
Hush  Reason  !     Hush  the  prattle  of  the  brain  — 
Behold  thy  Lady  in  the  dance  again. 


35 


Not  in  the  dance,  the  whirling  waltz  is  o'er; 

See  how  with  queenly  grace  she  leaves  the  floor. 

Crushed  by  the  passers  in  the  crowded  aisles, 

I  pause  to  give  her  room,  she  bows  and  smiles, 

When  for  a  time  I  vow  to  not  be  bound 

By  all  the  stones  that  Moses  ever  found. 

A  thousand  reasons  justify  the  cause, 

God  made  her  beauty  as  he  made  these  laws, 

Made  it  to  be  admired,  so  why  not  then, 

Covet  such  pleasures  with  all  other  men? 

"  Thou  shalt  not  covet  !  "     But  her  wondrous  eyes 

Challenge  the  law  and  dare  me  otherwise; 

To  covet  but  her  company  alone, 

Is  sin  within  the  meaning  of  the  stone; 

Thus  as  I  let  my  reason  more  abound, 

Heedless  of  all  the  merry  throng  around, 

Some  dear  acquaintance  bids  my  dreaming  stay, 

As  he  presents  me  and  we  stroll  away. 


37 
THE    GARDEN 

OUTSIDE,  the  summer  night's  delightful  cool 
Led  us  unnoticed  to  a  shady  pool. 
"  The  dance  was  tiresome !  "     So  at  least  she  said ; 
"  Her    Husband    much    preferred    '  The    Grill '    in 
stead, 
And  shunned  the  maddening  crowd."     When  on  the 

shore 

Her  order  fell,  she  vowed  to  dance  no  more. 
Still  was  the  breeze.     The  night's  delicious  calm 
Scattered  the  dew,  and  soothed  us  with  its  balm; 
Over  our  heads  a  towering  oak  on  high 
Seemed  as  it  swept  the  stars  within  the  sky; 
And  the  low  boughs  that  sheltered  us  from  sight 
Strengthened  our  vision  in  the  moonless  night. 
Oft  could  I  see  each  subtle  charm  possessed, 
Rise  with  her  smiles,  like  rose  her  snowy  breast, 
And  often  too,  I  bantered  on  each  charm, 
While  she  confiding  leaned  upon  my  arm, 
Nor  did  a  passing  flattery,  but  surmise, 
That  I  beheld  new  joys  within  her  eyes. 


Gttjp  ifgjmrrtt*  39 

Damp  was  the  lawn.     I  warned  her  to  beware ; 

"  Oh,  no !  "  she  cried.     "  I  never  have  a  care," 

And  as  she  toyed  her  skirts,  amid  the  dew 

I  caught  the  glitter  of  a  dainty  shoe; 

That  same  dear  dainty  foot  that  I  had  seen, 

Once  in  the  church  upon  the  hassock  green. 

Closely  I  watched  her  wandering  glance  look  down, 

And  in  that  instant  marked  a  troubled  frown, 

As  in  vexatious  tones,  she  quickly  cried ; 

"  There !     In   the  dance  my   slipper   came  untied." 

Who  to  such  task  would  not  devoutly  spring? 

Quickly  I  kneeled  to  tie  the  faithless  string; 

And  as  before  her  foot  I  bended  low, 

And  with  the  lace  I  drew  an  awkward  bow ; 

Though  truant  strand  at  first  could  scarce  be  found, 

And  semidarkness  hovered  all  around, 

I  yet  beheld  an  instep  arched  and  trim, 

As  ever  graced  a  throne  on  queenly  limb: 

How  firmly  tied,  how  well  performed  the  task, 

I  do  not  know,  I  did  not  dare  to  ask; 

I  only  know;  from  truth  the  duty  came; 

With  heart  afire,  and  mind  fast  catching  flame, 


41 

And  tardy  hand,  I  brought  the  joy  to  close, 
And  all  a-tremble  from  the  ground  arose. 

How  long  we  viewed  the  night  I  cannot  tell, 

Drinking  its  glory  in  one  silent  spell. 

Far  to  the  east,  the  swarming  Pleiades, 

Rose  in  a  glittering  cluster,  through  the  trees ; 

Northward,  on  high,  bold  Ursa  Major  came, 

Prowling  the  starry  sky  with  tail  aflame, 

Where,  in  the  Arctic  Circle,  dimly  shone, 

The  faithful  "  Guide  Star  "  of  the  Frigid  Zone ; 

And  high  o'er  all,  within  the  Milky  Way, 

Millions  of  beacons  shone  with  glittering  ray, 

As  if  Creation  had,  in  wrathful  ire, 

Crossed    through    the    sky    and    left    one    path    of 

fire. 

I  pointed  out  bold  Mercury,  then  Mars ; 
Her  ear  swept  my  lapel  to  view  the  stars, 
And  lingered  there,  as  guiding  far  her  view, 
I  named  the  many  wandering  orbs  I  knew, 
And  some  I  didn't  know,  but  wisely  feigned, 
And  let  false  fancy  form  long-sounding  names ; 


43 


When,  with  a  merry  laugh,  she  glanced  aside; 
"  I  think  you  know  them  nearly  all  !  "  she  cried  ; 
Then  cast  a  sweeping  glance,  where,  in  the  west, 
Venus  seemed  winking  as  she  sank  to  rest. 

Through   all   this    scene,    "  My    Lady,"    wondrous 

fair, 

Stood  at  my  side,  the  starlight  in  her  hair. 
And  once,  when  as  I  drew  her  over  near, 
A  ray,  reflected  from  her  jeweled  ear, 
Caused  me  to  start;  her  glove  fell  to  the  ground; 
Glad  of  the  chance,  I  reached  it  with  a  bound. 
We  talked  of  Ethics,  of  the  Church  and  Pew, 
Talked  of  the  Choir,  and  of  the  Dominie  too  ; 
"  All  of  the  world,"  she  said  ;  "  was  but  a  cheat  — 
Ninety  and  Nine  per  cent  of  all,  deceit." 
We  talked  of  dancing,  while  she  toyed  her  glove, 
It  seemed  we  talked  of  everything,  but  Love  ; 
We  talked  of  Music,  of  the  gilded  Show, 
And  long  we  talked,  until  'twas  time  to  go  ; 
"  The  hour  was  late,  the  air  was  chilly,  cold, 
Her  Husband  waited,  he  was  rather  old, 


©If?  ijtjporrit?  45 

We'd  meet  again  " ;  I  answered  with  a  sigh ; 

She  waved  a  jeweled  hand  a  fond  "  Good-Bye," 

When,  as  I  turned  within  the  night  alone, 

There  Moses  stood  with  that  tenth  slab  of  stone. 


47 
THE    ARGUMENT 

THERE  are  some  raptures  that  no    King  hath 
learned, 

To  him,  the  simple  word  a  wish  hath  earned; 
All  other  pleasures  are  as  meek  alloys ; 
Anticipation  is  the  King  of  Joys, 
And  oft,  the  mere  desire  for  what  we  prize, 
Is  ten-fold  greater  than  to  realize. 
Breathes  there  a  living  man  who  dares  to  say, 
He  ne'er  hath  coveted  throughout  his  day? 
To  have  and  hold  all  men  on  earth  aspire, 
And  things  take  value  from  that  mere  desire. 
The  useless  nag,  no  longer  fit  to  load, 
Dies  without  shelter  on  the  public  road; 
The  worthless  cur,  now  friendless  in  retreat, 
Drags  its  poor  starving  bones  along  the  street ; 
None  covet,  hence  none  value;  Men  revere 
Only  the  thing  some  other  man  holds  dear. 

The  pious  Parson  goes  his  lonely  way, 
A  great  respect  his  almost  only  pay, 


49 

And  as  he  sees  a  harvest's  bounteous  yield, 
Stacked  for  the  threshing,  in  a  neighboring  field, 
And  thinks,  what  small  reward  brings  work  divine, 
Says  in  his  heart,  "  I  wish  that  field  were  mine ! " 
The  prayerful  Christian  and  his  faithful  wife, 
Poor  and  kept  poor  by  piety  through  life, 
Pass,  as  they  journey  to  the  house  of  prayer, 
The  mansion  of  some  rake — A  Millionaire; 
When,  as  they  think  of  the  poor  shack  they  own, 
Thoughtless  declare,  "  Pd  like  to  have  that  home !  " 

"  Thou  shalt  not  covet !  "     Oh  Immortal  Shade ! 
All  men  must  covet,  else  where  is  there  trade? 
Business    would    cease,    the    merchants    close    their 

doors, 

And  ships  lie  idly  rotting  on  our  shores; 
Houses  fall  to  decay,  and  toil  rebel, 
While  life  on  earth  would  be  one  living  hell. 
Ah  Moses !     When  you  made  that  wondrous  find, 
Why  did  you  not  that  Tablet  leave  behind, 
Leave  it  behind,  to  lighten  up  your  load, 
And  save  posterity  this  conscience  goad? 


QJIj?  ijgjmrrtt?  51 

For  you  it  was  who  first  that  law  transgressed, 

By  coveting  that  tablet  with  the  rest. 

Oh  Heaven !     With  this  my  one  petition  bear ; 

I  ne'er  as  yet  o'erburdened  Thee  with  prayer ; 

Heed  it,  that  Immortality  may  know, 

The  one  great  cause  of  half  our  mortal  woe. 

This  be  my  prayer :  "  Repeal  that  Law  alone — 

Oh  let  us  covet,  though  we  may  not  own." 


QIJ|p  Sjgpurrit*  53 

CENTRAL    PARK 

ONE  morn  I  met  "  My  Lady  "  in  the  park. 
The  sky  was  cloudy  and  the  day  was  dark. 
Her  step  was  slow,  as  if  she  chose  to  stray 
Amid  the  groves,  to  while  the  hours  away. 
The  Lake  was  silent.     Not  a  murmuring  breeze 
Rose  to  disturb  the  image  of  the  trees, 
Mirrored  within  the  water's  waveless  breast, 
Where  all  the  snowy  Swan  Boats  seemed  at  rest. 
Likely  it  was  the  day,  but  when  we  met, 
I  fancied  in  her  look  a  sad  regret, 
Yet  that  sad  glance  with  piercing  sudden  dart, 
Lighted  the  dark  recesses  of  my  heart, 
Strengthened  my  step  beneath  its  sweet  control, 
And  bade  life's  sunlight  gladden  all  my  soul. 

"  Clarice !  "  I  cried :  the  fever  burned  my  cheek, 
My    voice    was    trembling    and    I    scarce    could 

speak ; 

Unto  my  soul  I  felt  a  thrill  creep  o'er, 
A  weakening  thrill,  that  bade  me  say  no  more, 


55 

And,  but  determination  upward  sprung, 
Abashed,  I  would  have  stayed  my  faltering  tongue. 
"  Clarice !  "  I  cried :  "  Grant  me  thy  pardon  pray, 
Should  I  confess  to  thee  my  wretched  way. 
Since  first  we  met,  my  heart  has  humbled  down, 
Courted  thy  smiles :  yea :  idolized  thy   frown ; 
Always  whene'er  I  humbly  bend  the  knee, 
Always,  my  prayers  are  always  all  of  thee; 
Last  with  the  night  they  call  thy  face  to  view, 
And  with  the  morning  plead  the  first  for  you: 
Oh  may  I  ever  be  thy  trusted  friend, 
Worthy,  platonic,  to  life's  bitter  end, 
Guarding  thy  steps ;  "  but  ere  I  more  confessed, 
She  turned  toward  me,  pale  and  colorless. 

"  Hush !  "   now  she  cried.      "  Why   bring  as  haunt 
ing  guest, 

Unto  my   soul,   the  sorrows   of   thy  breast? 
Let  what  we  suffer  here  remain  unsaid ; 
Let  the  relented  past  when  past  be  dead, 
Though  in  our  bosoms  may  those  secrets  lie, 
Gnawing  our  peace  like  vultures,  till  we  die: 


57 

Were  I  to  brood  o'er  grief  long  known  to  me, 
Yon  lake,  to-night,  should  form  my  canopy ; 
Swift  from  its  steep  my  being  downward  glide, 
And  give  its  watery  shroud  a  welcome  bride, 
Facing  the  future  fates  without  a  tear, 
Far  less  unkind,  I  fancy,  there  than  here." 
Then,  as  she  slowly  turned  away  her  head, 
And,  as  my  glance  surmised  a  tear,  she  said, 
"  Come !      Let   us   go !  "      I   marked   her    trembling 

there, 

Folded  her  wraps  about  her  form  with  care, 
Offered  my  arm,  and  as  we  went  our  way, 
Turned    the   heart-brooding   thoughts    to    thoughts 

more  gay. 

Thus,  by  the  Lake  we  wandered  near  its  shore, 
When  she  recalled  the  ball;  that  night  of  yore; 
Then  for  her  husband's  health  expressed  a  fear, 
And  though  I  gazed  intent,  I  saw  no  tear, 
But,    as    she    breathed    his    name,    I    marked    the 

while 
A  very  sadness  overcome  her  smile. 


59 

"  Ah,  could  it  be,"  I  sighed,  as  on  we  went ; 

"  Is  this  another  heart  by  folly  rent? 

Is  this  a  heart  now  hiding  its  distress 

That    sold    its    love?"      A    deep    voice    murmured: 

"  Yes! 

She  coveted  his  wealth,  the  common  mold, 
And  traded  beauty  for  his  age  and  gold; 
Strangled  the  very  love  that  he  might  crave, 
And  cast  its  body  in  a  gilded  grave: 
False  to  herself,  false  to  the  holy  writ, 
False  to  her  God;  dissembling  hypocrite! " 
As  the  voice  ceased,  and  still  I  stood  alone, 
There  stood  great  Moses  with  that  slab  of  stone. 

She  heard  him  not.     I  gently  pressed  her  arm, 
Quickened  the  pace  and  caught  her  laughing  charm. 
Grief  found  no  resting  place ;  like  some  wild  boy, 
She,  with  a  smile,  could  turn  from  grief  to  joy, 
Or  rather  seem  to  turn,  for  none  may  know 
But  that  a  smile  hides  many  a  pang  of  woe. 
Woe  to  that  woman  in  whose  harrowed  breast, 
Sorrow,  the  Vulture,  builds  its  cankerous  nest ; 


61 


Feasting  by  night  and  day  ;  its  endless  strife 
Preys  on  the  few  remaining  joys  of  life, 
Feeds  on  the  very  food  the  soul  might  crave, 
Watches  her  die  and  mocks  beside  the  grave. 
A    "  trap  "    came    down    the   drive,    we   paused   a 

while  ; 

I  marked  a  proffered  bow,  her  answering  smile, 
Then  on  we  strolled.     "  Our  Minister,"  she  said, 
And  thrice  I  saw  him  turn  his  reverend  head; 
Was  I  the  cause  of  his  intent  review? 
Unerring  judgment  far,   far  better  knew. 
His  nervous  steed  assumed  a  slower  pace, 
The  lines  hung  idly,  from  the  slackened  trace 
I  judged  he  wasn't  grieving  o'er  his  lambs, 
Or  thinking  much  just  then  of  singing  psalms, 
And  as  I  looked  again:  Behold  —  I  saw 
My  friend,  the  Being,  with  his  slab  of  Law, 
When  the  old  patriarch,  to  my  surprise, 
Held  the  tenth  tablet  to  his  reverend  eyes. 

A  sudden  breeze  sprang  up  ;  the  day  was  chill, 
"  My  Lady  Fair  "  complained  of  feeling  ill  ; 


63 

Just  indisposed:  A  trifle  "  mat  de  tete  "; 

I  took  her  arm  and  breathed  a  fond  regret. 

The  druggist's  perfumed  shop  we  quickly  sought, 

Answered  his  smiles,  the  trifling  cordial  bought ; 

He  bowed  profusely  to  "  My  Lady  Fair," 

Asked  for  her  health:  her  husband's  hopeful  care, 

And  well  I  knew  the  compliments  he  paid 

Were  but  the  false  ambassadors  of  trade. 

Well  had  he  learned  the  diplomatic  art, 

For  as  he  marked  us  anxious  to  depart, 

Came  from  within  his  bottle-sided  den, 

Opened  the  door  and  bade  us  call  again, 

But    ere    he    turned    from    view;    with    muttering 

moan, 
There  too  stood  Moses  with  his  slab  of  stone. 

Where'er  we  went,  whate'er  we  chanced  to  do, 
It  seemed  the  patriarch  went  with  us  too; 
She  did  not  see  him,  but  had  learned  to  know 
The  broken  law  that  caused  her  endless  woe; 
Sinned  without  knowledge  of  it  at  the  time, 
Or  must  intent  be  there  to  make  it  crime? 


65 


I  left  her  at  the  gate  ;  she  bade  me  stay, 
Slow  gave  a  parting  hand  ;  I  went  my  way  : 
I  knew  her  heart  was  food  for  gnawing  dread; 
I  felt,  the  song-bird  in  her  soul  was  dead, 
Or  that  its  voice  was  hushed  unto  her  ear, 
Lest  it  might  sing  a  song  she  would  not  hear: 
Thus,  as  I  dreamed,  o'er  what  I  feared  was  true, 
I  caught  her  smile,  as  slow  I  turned  from  view. 


67 
LOST 

THE  months  rolled  by ;  sorrow  came  to  my  door, 
Affliction  entered,  and  I  knew  no  more; 
Until  a  tender  hand  had  soothed  my  brow, 
And  some  one  said,  "  Lie  still !     You're  better  now." 
And  thus  it  was ;  through  sickness  for  a  time, 
Slow  convalescing  and  a  change  of  clime, 
I  did  not  see  "  My  Fair  "  for  many  a  day, 
Though  oft  I  missed  her  from  among  the  gay, 
When  languid  time  permitted  me  to  go 
In  search  of  her,  with  feebled  step  and  slow. 
Oft  would  I  watch  the  line,  where  trampling  feet 
Turned  at  The  Circle  on  the  busy  street, 
Where  that  great  hero  of  the  pathless  waves, 
Molded  in  bronze,  still  gale  and  tempest  braves ; 
There,  through  the  weary  hours  would  I  stand, 
Trembling,  alike  in  feverish  limb  and  hand, 
Spying  with  staring  eyes  amid  the  crowd, 
Until  it  seemed  my  soul  would  cry  aloud; 
Though  many  lingered,  many  fair  to  see, 
Happy  and  bright,  none  were  Clarice  to  me. 


69 

Nightly   I   viewed,  while  wandering  o'er   the   town, 
The  glittering  lights  on  Broadway ;  up  and  down, 
And,  as  amid  their  maze,  a  searching  glance 
Fancied  her  fleeting  form,  far  in  advance, 
Quickly  I  stepped,  forsook  some  strolling  friend, 
But  to  return  heart-broken  in  the  end; 
Like  the  wrecked  sailor,  whose  distracted  brain, 
Fancies  some  fog  the  shore,  far  o'er  the  main, 
Plies  his  unwieldy  craft,  is  thither  borne, 
Enters  its  bank,  and  dies  of  hope  forlorn, 
So  did  false  fancy  lift  my  hopes  on  high; 
So  in  my  bosom  did  those  prospects  die. 

One  day  I  strolled;  ah,  well,  no  matter  where, 
Hoping  by  fortune's   chance  to  meet  "  My  Fair." 
The    Manse    was    closed,    and    silence    reigned    su 
preme 

O'er  Hospitality's  deserted  scene. 
Round  the  now  sylvan  porch  the  ivy  wild, 
Wandered  untrained,  a  disobedient  child, 
And  hung  its  tangled  green  o'er  terraced  wall, 
In  self-appropriation  of  it  all. 


%p0rrtt*  71 

The  Manse  was  closed.     Each  barricaded  room, 

That  once  admitted  light,  emitted  gloom, 

To  cast  dark  shadows  o'er  a  ragged  sward, 

Where  Milo's  Venus,  ghost-like,   seemed  on  guard; 

A  weak  defense.     Now  as  I  tearful-eyed, 

My  very  soul,  dismayed,  thus  to  me  cried: 

"  Alas ;  poor  victim  of  Misfortune's  ire, 

See  how  in  life  thy  varying  hopes  expire; 

Like  the  fair  flower,  that  with  earliest  dawn 

Spreads  a  rare  beauty  that  at  eve  is  gone ; 

So  foolish  man,  anticipating  joys, 

Finds  that  some  fate  converts  them  into  toys. 

No  more  at  eve,  an  oft-invited  guest, 

You  sink  upon  yon  ivied  porch  to  rest ; 

No  more,  responsive  to  the  knocker's  din, 

Hear  with  delight  the  welcoming  steps  within: 

Nor  when  with  tardy  foot  you  turn  away, 

Will  longer,  faltering  whispers  bid  thee  stay." 

As  up  the  path  I  trod,  once  known  so  well, 

A  nest,  forsaken,  from  an  arbor  fell, 

Fell  at  my  feet,  I  gave  a  startled  bound, 

While  bird-built  fragments  strewed  the  path  around ; 


73 

As  if  the  haunted  scene  would  add  unkind 

Its  double  desolation  to  my  mind. 

The  spot  that  once  a  gardener's  care  had  known ; 

Rank  with  neglect,  by  strangling  shrubs  o'ergrown, 

Barred  now  the  way ;  with  piteous  glance  I  eyed 

The  wild  disorder  where  the  roses  died ; 

Died  from  a  lack  of  care  ere  summer's  noon, 

For  it  was  June  time  now ;  fair,  flowery  June. 

Long  there  I  stood  amid  the  tangled  maze 

In  more  than  speechless  agony ;  to  gaze, 

Where  fate  permitted,  from  its  varying  store, 

The  sign  of  trade  to  desecrate  the  door, 

Before  my  eyes  in  glaring  letters  bold, 

That  chilled  my  heart  and  turned  its  currents  cold. 

The  drives  of  fashion  knew  her  now  no  more; 

Manhattan  seemed  a  wild  deserted  shore; 

Delmonico's,  where  oft  she  loved  to  dine, 

Still  entertained  and  overflowed  with  wine, 

But  'mid  the  merry  clink  of  glasses  loud, 

One  sought-for  face  was  absent  from  the  crowd. 

Where'er  I  chanced  to  go,  no  matter  where, 

It  seemed  all  life,  but  no   Clarice  was   there. 


Qfye  ifgjrorrti*  75 

I  sought  acquaintances,  none  seemed  to  know. 
One  said ;  "  Oh  I  forget !     We're  changing  so ! 
Here  in  New  York,"  she  sighed ;  "  we  live  so  fast — 
It  matters  not  how  gay  has  been  the  past, 
How  winsome  or  convivial  the  lot, 
Soon  are  we  missed,  but  sooner  still,  forgot." 
Thus,  thus  it  was ;  with  many  a  weary  dread, 
I  most  despaired  to  mourn  Clarice  for  dead. 

One  morn  I  wandered  by  the  sounding  sea ; 

No  joy  was  in  its  waves,  no  joy  for  me. 

"  Trouble,"  I  sighed ;  "  ah,  well ;  I'm  not  alone— 

For  the  bold  sea-heart  throbs  with  sorrowing  moan." 

While  as  I  watched  the  surging  billows  roll, 

Swell  after  swell  of  grief  engulfed  my  soul ; 

Then —    Like  the  full-sailed  ships  slow  passing  by, 

Prayed  that  my  life  might  bid  all  care  good-bye. 

Turn  from  the  shore,  its  tattered  sails  unfurl, 

Enter  the  harbor  of  some  other  world, 

Strand   the   wrecked    hulk,    no    more   to    sail    the 

sea; 
Nor  little  care  had  I  what  port  that  be. 


77 

I  viewed  the  angry  coast.     Near  where  I  stood, 
A  ship's  bones  strangled  in  the  battling  flood ; 
O'er  the  wrecked  carcass  fettered  on  the  strand 
A  solitary  fish-hawk  held  command, 
Where,  'mid  its  hungered  cry  so  loud  and  shrill, 
I  heard  the  sea  sweep  in  and  out  at  will, 
Just  as  the  pounding  waves  of  grief  and  woe, 
Through  my  wrecked  soul,  seemed  surging  to  and 

fro. 

I  watched  the  sea-gulls,  in  their  coats  of  gray, 
Skim  o'er  the  waters  in  aerial  play ; 
Think  you  their  circling  joys  bade  sorrow  cease? 
Rather  instead  they  made  its  weight  increase. 
I  marked  the  great  swells  come,  the  eddies  go, 
And    heard    the    breakers    with    their    crowns    of 

snow, 

As  down  they  fell  in  ever  constant  roar, 
Hopeless,  like  I  crestfallen,  on  the  shore, 
While,  as  I  viewed  an  ocean  of  unrest, 
Came  the  chill  air  from  off  its  troubled  breast. 
Long,  long  I  stood,  and  in  my  sorrowing  grief, 
Gazed  where  the  combers  crossed  the  harrowing  reef, 


79 

And  as  I  looked  nor  changed  my  stubborn  place, 

In  the  white  foam  I  thought  I  saw  her  face, 

Saw  her  pale  brow  within  the  strangling  brine, 

Saw  her  deep  eyes  look  pleading  into  mine: 

The  sea  was  cold ;  the  tide  was  riding  high ; 

She  could  not  long  survive ;  I  gave  one  cry ; 

Leaped  for  the  surf;  but  ere  its  waters  gained, 

A  mighty  hand  and  mightier  arm  restrained 

That  bore  me  down,  and  then,  to  chide  my  fears, 

My  dearest  friend  bent  over  me,  in  tears. 

"  Come !     Come !  my  boy !  "  he  said ;  "  you  must  be 

ill; 

The  marsh  is  damp,  the  ocean's  breath  is  chill, 
The  hour  is  late,  the  sun  is  nearly  down," 
And  took  my  arm  and  led  me  back  to  town, 
When  sickness  knocked  again  upon  my  door, 
And  then,  for  weeks,  for  weeks,  I  knew  no  more. 


81 

THE    RETURN 

HOW    long    they    nightly    watched    I    cannot 
tell. 

To  me,  it  seemed  one  endless  age  of  hell, 
Until  the  nurse,  who  guarded  me  with  care, 
Said  I  might  stroll  one  day,  and  get  the  air. 
'Twas  in  the  fall.     I  felt  the  bracing  breeze 
Lighten  my  step  and  give  my  senses  ease, 
Ease    for    a    time,    for    all    the    world    seemed 

strange ; 

Some  call  it  ease,  I  call  such  ease  but  change, 
For  when  the  very  soul  is  in  decay, 
What  of  this  earth  can  take  its  sting  away? 
Now  sorrow-bowed,  and  sick  at  heart  and  brain, 
From  disappointed  search,  long,  long  in  vain, 
I  vowed  again  to  stroll  the  watery  shore 
Up  in  the  park,  then  vowed  to  search  no  more. 
'Twas  evening  time,  and  plain  I  overheard, 
In  the  tall  trees,  the  twitter  of  the  bird, 
Where,  one  by  one,  they  sought  the  leafy  boughs, 
Folded  their  wings  and  sang  their  vesper  vows. 


3%  ifeporrifr  83 

Off  in  the  golden  west  the  sun's  last  ray 
Summoned  its  shafts  to  crown  departing  day ; 
Called  all  the  clouds  that  floated  in  the  sky 
Unto  its  realm,  and  piled  them  up  on  high; 
Took  the  tall  pillars,  dipped  them  in  the  flame 
Of  a  full  thousand  dyes  no  tongue  could  name, 
Then,  as  if  finishing  its  grand  desire, 
Tossed  them  on  high  and  set  them  all  on  fire. 
Under  the  ledge,  the  Lake,  now  fast  asleep, 
Ceased  from  its  rippling  romp  with  shore  and  steep ; 
Like  the  tired  child,  that  wearied  in  its  joys 
Closes  its  eyes  and  dreams  amid  its  toys, 
So  the  dark  Lake,  beneath  the  shadowy  hill, 
Ceased  its  carousal  and  lay  calm  and  still. 
How  easy,  now  I  thought,  as  there  I  stood, 
Gazing  afar  o'er  silent  lake  and  wood, 
How  easy  now  to  slip  from  yonder  crest, 
In  the  calm  tide  and  be  fore'er  at  rest, 
There  to  forget  the  past  when  all  is  o'er, 
Slumber  alone,  and  dream  of  grief  no  more. 
When,  as  I  turned,  uncertain  what  to  do, 
A  woman  stood  before  my  startled  view. 


85 

The  day  was  gone.     She  saw  me  not,  I  know, 
Her  face  was  to  the  lake,  her  veil  was  low. 
In  deepest  black  she  stood,  nor  gesture  made, 
Much  like  a  Nun,  more  like  the  gathering  shade. 
I  watched  her  crimp  her  silken  skirts  with  care ; 
I  saw  her  kneel,  and  bow  her  head  in  prayer, 
Then    heard    a    murmuring    voice,    and    when    'twas 

o'er, 

She  sobbing  sighed  aloud :  "  He  is  no  more — 
One  year  has  passed ;  Oh  God !    That  year  to  me." 
And  loud  I  cried  "  Clarice !  "  for  it  was  she. 

Swift  bounds  the  deer  from  cover  to  the  chase — 
Swift  bounds  the  pheasant  from  its  nesting  place — 
Swift  bounds  the  waterfall  from  mountain  side — 
Swift  bounds  the  tempest  o'er  the  ocean's  tide- 
Swift  bounds  the  antelope — But  far  more  fleet 
Bounds  the  true  lover  to  his  heart's  retreat. 
I  grasped  her  proffered  hands,  but  let  them  fall ; 
"  Tell  me !  Clarice !  "  I  cried ;  "  Oh  tell  me  all !  " 
But  ere  she  chanced  to  speak,  with  muttered  moan 
There  Moses  stood  with  that  tenth  slab  of  stone. 


87 

She  saw  his  face  and  shrank  beneath  its  frown, 
Each   guttural   moan   I   feared   would    strike   her 

down. 

She  would  have  fled  within  the  sheltering  shade, 
Had  not  I  cried ;  "  Oh  stay !  "  and  she  obeyed ; 
As  there  we  stood  within  the  gathering  dark, 
We  heard  in  solemn  tones,  the  Patriarch. 
Heavy  and  low  his  voice  rang  on  the  night, 
That  in  itself  would  chill  the  blood  with  fright ; 
Each  solemn  word  within  the  gathered  gloom, 
Seemed  like  some  hollow  voice  from  out  the  tomb, 
And  thus  he  spoke :  "  Hear  me !  Poor  human  things ! 
I  am  the  Prophet  of  the  King  of  Kings ; 
This  is  the  Law,  nor  mortals  dare  defy ; 
Left  to  my  care  on  burning  Sinai ; 
Hark  ye,  and  heed:  that  all  may  learn  anew — 
Thou  shall  not  covet!  "     And  he  shrank  from  view. 

Throughout  the  wood,  where  all  had  been  so  still, 
Rang  the  wild  echo  from  the  distant  hill ; 
All  the  rude  rocks  and  woody  vales  around 
Took  up  the  voice  and  still  prolonged  its  sound, 


89 

Until  it  seemed  as  if  the  very  stones 

Gave  birth  to  tongues  and  tongues  to  guttural  tones. 

Backward  she  moved;  I  marked  her  trembling  pace; 

The  veil  that  fell  exposed  her  sorrowing  face, 

And  from  that  very  look  I  knew  she  heard 

The  thunderous  echoes  of  the  Prophet's  word, 

While  through  the  gathering  night  she  moved  away, 

As  if  her  sad  soul  forced  her  to  obey. 

Backward  she  fled  in  darkness  and  despair. 

Night  clothed  her  form  from  view ;  the  face  and  hair, 

Like    some   weird   spectral   head,    moved    'neath   the 

trees, 

Till  in  my  veins  I  thought  my  blood  would  freeze. 
"  Clarice  !  "  I  cried  aloud ;  "  Clarice  !     My  own  ! 
Heed  not  the  literal  meaning  of  the  stone! 
Turn  not  away,  nor  dread  the  chastening  rod, 
Conquer  thy  fears  and  put  thy  trust  in  God, 
Who,  ever  merciful,  in  judgment  sits: 
This  be  the  Law,  then  all  are  Hypocrites ! 
Come  back !  "  I  cried ;  "  Come  back  !     Don't  let  me 

die!" 
And  all  the  wood  reechoed  with  the  cry. 


91 


I  watched  the  face  relight  with  holy  joy, 

I  saw  her  bound  as  bounds  delighted  boy, 

Beheld  her  arms  stretched  toward  me  as  she  came, 

Welcomed  her  love  and  caught  its  burning  flame  ; 

I  marked  her  pause  again,  as  in  distress, 

Press  back  the  strands  of  each  disheveled  tress, 

Ring  wild  her  hands,  as  o'er  her  being  rolled 

The  occult  powers  of  strife  'twixt  Mind  and  Soul; 

Then,  with  a  face  as  pallid  as  the  snow, 

And  with  a  look  aflood  with  human  woe, 

With  forward  stride,  with  one  confiding  bound, 

And  trembling  shriek,  that  shocked  the  air  around, 

She    cried,    "  Oh    God  !  "     as    writhed    her    arms 

above  ; 

"  Oh  God  !  I  covet.    Yes  !  I  covet  Love: 
Covet  the  love  rebuked  within  the  past, 
Covet  the  love  that  shall  be  mine  at  last  "  : 
And  while  the  scream  reechoed  fierce  and  wild, 
Fell  at  my  feet  like  some  sweet  sleeping  child. 

How  long  I  kneeled,  how  long  my  darling  slept, 
How  long  I  prayed,  or  longer  still,  I  wept, 


93 


I  do  not  know,  for  fleeting  time  to  me 

Was  not  a  part  of  Love's  sweet  tragedy  ; 

I  only  know,  with  joy  that  was  complete, 

I  raised  my  trembling  idol  to  her  feet. 

She  stood  apart  ;  to  sighing  grief  gave  way, 

As  if  still  brooding  o'er  the  yesterday, 

Or  was  it  not  the  grief,  long  known  of  yore? 

Grieved  but  to  fear  I  loved  her  now  no  more. 

"  Clarice,"  I  sighed  ;  "  Oh  cease  each  vain  regret, 

Come  to  my  arms  and  let  us  both  forget. 

Unto  my  life  you  bring  an  absent  joy 

That  I  have  never  known,  since,  when  a  boy, 

My  mother  fondly  drew  me  to  her  knee, 

Clasped  me  in  love  and  cried,  '  Oh  come  to  me  !  ' 

Life  is  a  race;  o'er  foolish  and  o'er  wise 

God  is  the  judge  and  Love  the  only  prize; 

Castles  of  stone,  or  palaces  of  gold, 

Mansions,  and  thrones,  with  storied  wealth  untold, 

Freed  from  the  soul's  communion,  can  impart 

Little  of  comfort  to  the  aching  heart. 

Cupid  is  King;  more  often  does  he  stray 

'Mid  the  poor  cottagers  than  'mid  the  gay  ; 


95 


More  often  far  his  piercing  arrows  fly, 
Where  humbler  lovers  want  to  sit  and  sigh, 
And  truer  seems  to  strike  his  mark  with  ease, 
Here  in  God's  Temple  underneath  the  trees. 
Cease  from  thy  tears,  as  here  by  Heaven's  grace, 
Mingle  our  souls  in  one  long  fond  embrace, 
Vow  by  thy  tear-stained  cheeks  now  all  aglow, 
To  follow  me,  no  matter  where  I  go  "  ; 
"  I  vow,"  she  cried  ;  "  I  vow  !  "    And  sank  to  rest, 
Her  weary  head  on  my  unworthy  breast. 


97 
"DE    JURE" 

I  BENT  my  head  and  raised  her  lips  to  mine, 
In  fond  embrace  I  felt  her  arms  entwine, 
I  felt  the  heaving  sigh,  and  sob,  arise, 
And  caught  their  currents  streaming  from  her  eyes, 
And  heard  the  Love-song  of  her  being  roll 
With  trembling  cadence  o'er  my  starving  soul ; 
Then,  as  we  stood  alone  amid  the  trees, 
Downward  we  sank  upon  our  bended  knees ; 
And,  as  our  hands  were  clasped  in  holy  love, 
Raised  our  dim  eyes  in  penitence  above, 
Called,  as  a  witness,  all  the  stars  that  shone, 
And  breathed  this  solemn  prayer  to  Heaven's  throne. 


99 


"X  7"E  sacred  groves,  ye  hills  and  valleys  bear 
JL         Most  reverend  testimony  to  our  prayer: 
King  over  Kings.     God  of  all  destiny  ! 
Mark  the  poor  things  who  humbly  look  to  Thee. 
Take  from  their  souls  each  sorrow  and  regret, 
Teach  them  to  know  that  Thou  wilt  guide  them  yet, 
May  their  repentance  for  the  past  atone; 
Oh  let  them  covet  still,  and  let  them  own." 


101 

CONSILIUM 

AND    thou,   fair    one,  by   glittering   wealth   de 
ceived  ; 

By  every  smile  that  age  bestows  aggrieved; 
By  sorrowing  hours  and  brooding  cares  distressed; 
By  self-inflicted  hate  and  woe  oppressed; 
To  all  of  wifehood's  sweet  estate  deranged; 
Or  worse,  to  tenderest  sentiment  estranged, 
Until  that  torturing  hour,  you  would  forget, 
Bids  misery  crown  each  moment  with  regret: 
Teach  thou  the  yet  untaught ;  that  they  may  know 
The  worse  than  death  of  life's  mismated  woe. 
Teach  them  to  know  that  loftier  virtues  lie 
Beyond  the  vulgar  power  of  wealth  to  buy ; 
Though  countless  thousands  adulate  the  place, 
Teach  them  to  spurn  December's  cold  embrace, 
Nor  be  mere  conscripts  to  the  laws  of  men, 
For  holier  laws  than  legal  hands  might  pen 
Have  long  decreed  within  the  courts  above 
That  Youth  and  Virtue  wait  alone  on  Love; 
Let  sad  Experience  her  story  tell, 


103 

This  is  the  tale,  fair  maidens,  mark  thee  well. 
When  Age  from  Beauty  wins  the  nuptial  vow, 
And  weaves  its  crown  of  thorns  about  her  brow, 
The  captive  Heart  aloud  in  anguish  cries, 
And  struggling  Soul,  rebukes,  rebels,  and  dies ; 
Or  bears  its  stain  unto  eternity, 
As  rivers  bear  pollution  to  the  sea. 
No  more,  decrepit  Age,  in  slow  decay, 
Companions  Youth  than  Night  companions  Day; 
No  more,  they  trend  to  linger  side  by  side, 
Than  moving  currents  mate  the  sluggish  tide ; 
Nor  more  does  Age  embellish  Youth's  repose 
Than  the  decaying  Leaf  adorns  the  Rose. 


105 

FINALE 

ISLAND  Elysium!     Oh  enchanted  Isle! 
Turn  thy  soft  ear  from  my  dull  song  the  while ; 
Peal  forth  the  bells  within  thy  tapering  spires, 
Cymbal  thy  joys  and  light  thy  myriad  fires, 
Gather  the  young,  and  let  sweet  voices  chime, 
For  the  day  wanes  and  soon  'tis  evening-time. 
Life  is  a  song;  that  song,  however  fair, 
Trembling  with  cadence  dies  upon  the  air; 
Time  is  a  thief,  who  robs  the  passing  hour, 
Cheating  us  all  at  last  of  youth  and  power; 
Then,  ere  too  soon  the  golden  moments  flee, 
Then,  ere  the  song  has  ceased  its  melody, 
Ere  the  much  cherished  day  goes  whirling  by, 
Ere  the  dark  shades  of  eve  dim  Beauty's  eye; 
Oh  let  us  covet  while  the  sun  shines  bright, 
Garner  Life's  pleasures,  for  'twill  soon  be  night. 
Island  Elysium !     Oh  enchanted  Isle ! 
Turn  thy  soft  ear  from  my  dull  song  the  while. 


DATE  DUE 


BECD  MAY  1  5 


1975 


INTKD  (Nil    S    A 


